Grabbing two paper towels to dry my hands, I turn to face her with a hip against the counter. “You sound pretty sure of yourself, Ms. Swan.” The hunger lurking in her eyes lures me in, a small smirk playing at my lips at her predictable reaction to her surname.
“Call me ‘Ms. Swan’ one more time…”
Her dare makes me chuckle, a sudden surge of bravado hardening my resolve to push back and see just what kind of mood she’s in. Leaning in closer as I reach behind her to drop the used towels in the trash, I murmur, “You’re in my way, Ms. Swan.”